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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

T hough Duncan asked to accompany her, Diana insisted he would attract too much attention just when they could least afford it. She did not permit Izzie to come either. The journey ahead of her was too dangerous.

Initially, she had Isaac run a note to Edward Langley, begging for an audience as soon as possible. She had quickly received a reply. Unfortunately, it was from his butler, informing her that the young man was abroad and not expected back for several days.

Perhaps he was in Chamberly assisting her husband.

So poor Isaac had to make one more run that day, this time to Edward’s brother. And William Langley agreed to meet her at the Wayfarer’s Respite.

But he was not available until six in the evening.

Diana’s heart raced at the wasted afternoon while Albie was in peril.

She tried to put the wait to good use, rifling through the massive bureau in her bedchamber to pack for the trip across the Channel.

Before leaving the townhouse, she found a voluminous cloak she had tucked around her now.

It was too thick for the mild late spring weather, but she couldn’t risk anyone spotting her.

Any concern for her reputation had long since crumbled to dust. However, word of her meeting with William Langley could reach Reginald Addington, and she would not risk that.

Diana needed to save Albion and Lillian. If she accomplished that much, she didn’t care what happened to her.

As the top of the appointed hour approached, she waited at a corner table in the Wayfarer’s Respite, grateful for the quiet so she might calm her body to face the tasks ahead. A passing of coins into his hands convinced the amenable Ollie to close the tavern early, granting Diana privacy.

She stared at the door. Though the sun would not set for a few hours more, charcoal gray skies accompanied a steady rain outside. Only flickering light from the candles Ollie had lit before retreating to a back room kept the tavern illuminated.

At last, William Langley strode inside, the brim of his top hat speckled with raindrops.When he spotted her, he rushed to the table and sat across from her.

“My lady,” he said hastily. “Deepest apologies for keeping you waiting.” William removed his hat and took the seat across from her. “Forgive me for jumping directly to the point, but your message indicated this was an urgent matter. And I find your choice of location puzzling.”

“I had hoped to speak to you alone, and this seemed like a safe place to avoid prying eyes. Thank you for meeting me.”

“Safe place? I confess to concern regarding what you might have to tell me. What has happened?”

“I am sorry to say you are right to be afeared.” A lump caught in Diana’s throat, and she forced it down, lowering her voice to a whisper. “The Phantom is in jeopardy. My husband.”

Whatever training Albie had provided to the men who worked with him was evident now. William paled but otherwise retained his composure.

“Madam, I am at your service, but you must be mistaken. You spoke of the Benevolent Phantom and then of Lord Albion.”

“Please. We don’t have time.” She let the cloak slip so he could make out her expression.

He needed to bear witness to her earnestness.

“I am well aware of who my husband is and what he is doing. I happened upon his private study and am now privy to his adventures. I believe your brother assists him in such. Perhaps you do as well?”

William Langley remained still, but she detected a tremor in his voice. “Even if that is so, how did you know about my brother? How would you know to contact me?”

She sighed and placed her hand flat on the table as though to prove she had nothing to hide.

“I have behaved most dishonorably. I only hope you can forgive me in the interest of doing everything to help Albie now.”

“I don’t understand—”

“Sir Reginald Addington holds a financial stake in the Duke of Rostin’s success. A rather substantial one as he has incurred a sizable debt to the man. Reginald held ... certain information over me as a threat. And then enlisted my help to uncover the identity of the Benevolent Phantom.”

“My lady!” William gasped. “You did not discuss the conundrum with your husband?”

“I wanted to. Desperately.” She shrugged helplessly. “You know as well as I how he played a certain character for the public eye. That of a buffoon.”

“He would not behave that way in private with you.”

“He did not. Not at first. But something changed. Albion began to put on a mask in my presence, and I could not bear it. Anyway, I didn’t want Albie to get caught in any of this. I didn’t realize. I never guessed. I didn’t know the truth.”

She shook her head. “Albie is in peril. It’s my fault.

I stole a note from your brother briefly and saw that it revealed where the Phantom planned to meet you last night at Lord Mandeville’s ball.

I regret it from the depth of my heart. Even had he found a stranger to me in that dining room, I could never hope for forgiveness for this terrible deed.

I’d no idea at all he’d find Albie there. ”

“I don’t know that this absolves you,” William said stiffly.

“Understand, Reginald was threatening not just my sister’s reputation but her very life.

She is trapped in Chamberly. He said he could convince Rostin to come after her.

I felt I’d no choice in the matter. I saw you and your brother passing notes at Lord Mandeville’s ball and contrived to sneak a look at the message.

At any rate, Reginald Addington now knows the truth.

I have reason to believe he has followed Albie to Chamberly to confront him and hand him over to the Duke of Rostin. ”

William expelled his breath. “I can put your mind somewhat at rest. Lord Albion set off for Chamberly shortly after the ball.”

“As Reginald has no doubt related to the Duke of Rostin. We mustn’t waste another minute.”

“Allow me to finish. Lord Albion has already departed. By now, he should have arrived.”

“No, no.” She shook her head. “He could not possibly. My husband is taking an alternate route via Newhaven. That might give us an advantage over Reginald in his pursuit. Reginald sent me a note indicating he was crossing the Channel tonight. If you know Albie’s route, we can warn him before he gets anywhere near Chamberly. ”

“Forgive me, my lady, but that was a ruse, probably intended to mislead you, Sir Reginald, or you both.” Though they were alone, William lowered his voice. “He traveled per the shortest route from Dover to Calais. From there, he shall proceed to Chamberly.”

Diana paled, gathering her jumbled thoughts. Trying to push away the images of Reginald and a band of Rostin’s mercenaries on horseback, overtaking Albion. “Then we need to find a hackney man with the fastest steeds we can find.”

“We may own the good fortune of the weather playing in our favor. If Reginald’s ship is delayed.” He gestured to the storm outside the tavern’s windows.

“Still, we must depart at once. We must warn Albie. I’ve experience with rough seas and will pay whatever is required to convince a captain to leave as soon as possible.”

She dared not hope that her husband would forgive her.If he did, she would remain at his side until the end of her life. If he didn’t, at least she would have told him the deepest secrets of her heart. Diana would confess how much she loved him with all her heart and mind.

And then she would turn herself over to Reginald. She would insist she was the Phantom. Reginald should not care as long as he had someone to present to Rostin. But she kept all of this to herself, knowing it would not motivate William to help her. Quite the opposite.

“I only hope that my husband can bear the sight of me,” Diana whispered. “After what I did.”

William tilted his head quizzically as he regarded her.

“My lady, believe what I say, for it comes from one besotted with his wife. And hence an expert on such matters. Lord Albion loves you as deeply as a gentleman has ever loved a woman. He is completely yours if only you will claim him. Now, excuse me so that I might speak to Ollie. He has a way of finding the best team of horses.”

With that, William went to fetch a post to transport them to Dover.

While he did so, Diana sat perfectly still.

She hoped God would forgive her, as she prayed her husband would, but she could not help but make a silent wish.

For Sir Reginald to have embarked just as the storm hit.

And that even now, he was naught but a corpse at the bottom of the sea.

As all storms do, this one eventually broke. By noon the following day, Diana and William Langley had boarded a two-masted packet schooner headed for Calais.

For the first hour of the voyage, she insisted on remaining on deck, squatting to plant herself on the teak wood planks, as she’d learned to do during her journey across the Atlantic on Swiftsure .

Fog obscured Dover’s white cliffs, wind lashed her face, and mist from the sea drenched the outer layer of the oilskin coat meant to protect her from gales.

Though assured they would reach Calais in six hours, a clip nearly impossible to best, it was all she could do not to approach the captain to get the ship to move faster.

As matters stood, she tried to push the boat more rapidly by sheer will alone as it sped across the now-calm waves of the Channel.

But they arrived at six, as the captain had predicted. At the dock, William engaged a waiting post-chaise to spirit them to a nearby inn on the French side of the border.

During the shaky coach ride, William explained that Albion had selected the place after quiet inquiries about innkeepers whose sympathy for Chamberly’s plight ran strong.

When they alighted, he paid the coachman to wait outside with the horses, as he assumed they would use the conveyance again soon enough.